The Narrow Path
by slpy650
Summary: Ten/Rose.  She went deep into the ship. Further than she'd ever gone.  She didn't know what she was expecting.
1. One

**A/N: Rose and the TARDIS have a little tiff.**

_Even this grass hut_

_may be transformed_

_into a doll's house._

_Bashô's Narrow Road to the Interior and Other Writings_, Translated by Sam Hamill.

**I.**

S.O.B.

_(son of a bitch)_

Sons of Bernie, the Doctor kept reminding her, but Rose preferred calling them S.O.B.s _(son of a bitches)_. Sounded better, didn't it? 'I'm an S.O.B.' Oh, you're an S.O.B., are you? Hey, come meet this G.D. S.O.B. _(god damn son of a bitch)._ It was amusing.

Childish?

Maybe. But who cared, really? It was harmless. She could easily mention a dozen things she'd seen _him _do or say that could be considered childish. And she was sure he knew it, giving up correcting her the third time she used the term.

"So you S.O.B.s lost it?" she asked with a sweet smile.

The short monk looked offended. The Doctor gave her a stern look.

"We didn't _lose _it," Brother Dermot said through gritted teeth. "It was _stolen._"

"How long ago did you say it went missing?" asked the Doctor. The little man turned to him gratefully – finally able to ignore her, Rose thought. She turned to face the chapel at large, examining the rows of pews as the big, strong men sorted things out.

"Well it was the last vigil – that would have been…five days ago, yes."

"Interesting," the Doctor said. "And of course it was there for the vigil?"

"Oh yes! We couldn't do the vigil without it. The stone is everything. It's powerful."

"Powerful, yes, but what kind of power?" The Doctor mumbled to himself. "What person could gain from using that power – and what exactly _could_ they gain?"

"There were women!" Brother Dermot exclaimed. "The afternoon before the vigil – a group of them tried to enter the chapel. Brother Mikail had to turn them away…"

Rose felt rather than saw the monk's accusing stare on her back, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yes – well," the Doctor said hastily. "Doesn't mean they're the culprits, but I suppose it doesn't mean they're not, either…" He cleared his throat.

Rose glanced back at the two momentarily, noting the Time Lord was fidgety but held a pleasant smile. For Brother Demot's benefit, she had no doubt. Certainly wasn't for her. She turned back around to the pews and bent down – and then tried not to laugh.

"Have you searched the other Brothers' rooms?"

"You think the thief came from within?"

"You can't deny it's a possibility, Brother Dermot."

"Of course it's impossible! The Sons of Bernie hold the highest honor, the highest regard from the people –"

"Doctor…"

"To even suggest a Brother was at fault! It's slanderous, an outrage!"

"Doctor…"

"Perhaps it wasn't intentional, perhaps it _was_ – whatever the case, you can't just dismiss all the monks here as innocent."

Rose sighed.

"Hey, S.O.B. This stone…it's red, yeah?"

Finally, Brother Dermot turned to her. A second later the Time Lord did, as well.

"Shiny, ten sides, 'bout the size of a golf ball?" She held it up.

"Found it."

* * *

He didn't speak to her as they entered the TARDIS, but that was okay with Rose. Silence was fine. In fact, silence wasn't enough. She'd go one step further. Without even bothering to stop at the console as he started the dematerialization sequence, she walked straight through the corridor. She didn't stop at her room. She completely bypassed his study.

She went deep into the ship. Further than she'd ever gone.

She passed countless doors, not looking in a single one. Not caring where she was going, and certainly not thinking about the Doctor and that chauvinistic S.O.B. Nothing seemed to stop her until she came to a dead end.

It might not have even really been a dead end. The TARDIS might have just got annoyed with her aimless wandering. She didn't care, but just in case the TARDIS was trying to tell her something, she took a peek into the end of the line, if only to be safe and avoid the ship's occasional temper.

She didn't know what she was expecting.

Some insight into the Doctor? Maybe something to enlighten her understanding of herself?

But it was just a wood. The Doctor had told her the TARDIS had a lot of gardens. She supposed it could have woods, too. It obviously had one, at least. It was pretty, as woods went. Nice tall trees with lovely yellowing leaves, like the beginning of autumn. Light poured in at an angle, the TARDIS simulating a still early morning. A narrow path nearly lost amongst the fallen leaves led the way up a little hill. She took a step into the room, browned leaves crunching beneath her trainers. The air felt crisp and refreshing. Cool, like after a welcome shower.

Very nice.

Curiosity satisfied, she turned to leave. But the door was gone.

"Damn."

She'd guessed wrong. It would have been better to leave well enough alone. Now she was at the mercy of the TARDIS. She hoped it'd be kind.

* * *

"Very clever," Rose whispered, staring at the spot the door had been. She put her hands on her hips.

"Alright, enough's enough. You made your point – don't mess with the alien. Got it." She waited patiently.

No door.

"Fine. I've been a horrible companion, and if you let me out I'll go and kiss his booboos all better. Okay?"

It seemed this was not okay and sarcasm was not lost on the ship. The pretty sunlight faded into a dark grey as storm clouds formed in the simulated sky. The clap of thunder ushered in a sudden wave of rain, quickly saturating her clothes.

Rose gaped a moment into the sky.

"Really? Really?"

The rumble of thunder was her answer, and Rose decided it was best not to argue. Turning, she ran, following the narrow path up the hill she'd seen bathed in dappled light a few moments before. Maybe there was a thick grove of trees or something to escape from the rain, which she noted was a bit chilly.

Instead, she spotted one better. A little hut at the top of the hill nestled cozily amid the trees. But the quicker she ran to it, the further away it seemed to be. She felt like she was in a perpetual state of being just _almost_ there. Hadn't this been just a little hill? And how long had she been running up it now?

"Oh, come on!" she grumbled. "'S not fair!"

The TARDIS seemed to relent a little bit. Suddenly the hut was closer, and in another moment she had reached it. Rushing through the door-less entry, there was a clack followed by another threatening rumble. But at least she was out of the rain. "Thanks a lot," she huffed, no longer caring if she upset the ship.

The hut was simple, a stone table and benches on either side the only furniture. A single candle sat in the middle of the table – the only light and warmth in sight. Rose sighed and dropped herself down on a bench. Rain pelted the hut's roof, but it was dry inside. She, on the other hand, was drenched. Wet and cold.

Bloody Time Lord and his bloody spaceship –

Lightning flashed, brightening the small hut's interior, accompanied by yet another clap of thunder.

"Okay!" she exclaimed. "But you're not the only one upset! And I can't help it – only human, after all!" She threw herself back on the bench, grimacing as she stretched herself out. Sod it, she was having a nap. Her arms folded across her chest and she closed her eyes, determined to will herself to sleep.

* * *

It was still raining when she woke up, but the thunder and lightning seemed to have stopped. Her spine was punishing her for being so stubborn as to fall asleep on a stone bench, and she found it hard to sit up. But once she'd managed it she was rewarded with a small gift. A big, fluffy white robe lay on the table. Perhaps the TARDIS felt a little guilty. Though it was obviously still cross, maybe it was coming around. The rain might even stop soon, and she could see if the door was back.

"Thank you," Rose smiled.

She stood to strip out of her wet clothes, shimmying with some difficulty from her jeans. She unclasped her bra and peeled off her knickers before finally wrapping herself in the soft, warm robe. It even had a hood which she tried to use to dry her hair, standing casually beside the bench as she patted the wet strands. She glanced outside the hut, and her blood suddenly ran cold.

The Doctor stood not ten feet from the doorway, a large, black umbrella sheltering him from the rain. His eyes were like saucers as he stared at her. She was sure hers looked much the same. The sky and the hut were still dark, but she could see the flush in his face, and she could feel the one beginning to burn in hers.

Oh. God.

_To be continued…_


	2. Two

**A/N: Rose puts her foot in her mouth.**

**II.**

_The Doctor stood not ten feet from the doorway, a large, black umbrella sheltering him from the rain. His eyes were like saucers as he stared at her. She was sure hers looked much the same. The sky and the hut were still dark, but she could see the flush in his face, and she could feel the one beginning to burn in hers._

_Oh. God._

Rose couldn't look away. The Doctor was watching her in a kind of fascinated horror, his mouth parted slightly, eyebrows drawn. Cool air ran up her robe, caressing her bare legs, and she'd never been more aware of her state of dress – or undress.

Blood pulsed through her veins, rushing to her head and she reeled, mind racing. He'd seen her. She knew he had with the look that was on his face, but how much had he seen? Had she given him the full show, or did he just make the finale? Did it matter? The Doctor had just seen her naked. _Oh, God. _She nearly choked. _The Doctor_ had just seen her _naked_.

_This,_ Rose thought, was the most embarrassing moment of her life. It surpassed Jackie practically announcing to everyone in the chemist's that her daughter was becoming a woman when Rose had gotten her first period at twelve. The moment she'd discovered Jimmy Stone had played her for the naïve fool she'd been didn't compare. Because this was the Doctor.

The Doctor – who didn't do domestics, who didn't _dance_ even though he danced. Who'd do whatever it'd take to save her just as much as if he was trying to save a planet, a civilization, or a servant girl. Who held above all else, above her and even himself, the safety of the universe. The Doctor – who despite all this (and because of all this), she loved.

But the shock Rose felt left her nearly as quick as it had come when she realized _why _the Doctor had just seen her in the buff. The TARDIS.

That damn, scheming TARDIS.

Just like it'd gotten inside her head without permission the first time she'd traveled with the Doctor, it'd gone and done this.

Bitch.

Anger replacing cold shock, Rose broke her gaze from the frozen Time Lord, stooping to gather up her wet clothes from the floor. She slipped on her trainers, not bothering to lace them up, and satisfied she'd gotten everything she'd come in with, she walked out of the hut.

Rose wasn't sure if it had stopped abruptly or if it had tapered off, but she realized the rain had ceased, the sky remaining dark and overcast as a cold wind blew. The Doctor stood motionless, wide eyes watching cautiously as she neared.

"Guess the door's working," Rose said as she passed him to head back down the narrow path.

"Rose – what…?"

"Your _bloody_ ship, that's _what_," she called over her shoulder without stopping.

Sure enough, the door the TARDIS had seen fit to deny her stood innocently open at the foot of the path. Withholding even a glance back at the wood, she headed into the hall, managing to find her room relatively quickly. With her door firmly slammed shut, she fell backwards onto the bed.

"Satisfied?" she asked the ship, but it didn't answer.

* * *

Rose was trying to convince herself that the Doctor probably hadn't been able to really see her since it'd been so dark – and wasn't having much success – when there was a quiet knock at her door. Well of course the TARDIS would never hide a door from _him._

She took a good minute to answer, hoping he'd think she was asleep and leave. She was still in her robe, never having moved from the bed in the past half-hour. When she didn't hear him move away from the door she sighed, made sure the robe was covering her properly, and called him in.

The door opened a crack, but he didn't enter.

"I, er – I just wanted to make sure you were okay…"

She waited.

"Rose," he paused. "Are you okay?"

She propped herself up on her elbows. "Aren't you gonna come in?"

"Do you want me to?" He sounded surprised.

She rolled her eyes. "Feel like m' talking to the wall."

After a breath, the door opened wider and the Doctor stepped fully into her room, closing the door behind him. Turning, his eyes fell to her form draped along the length of the bed, wrapped in her robe, and he stopped short.

"Ah – you're not dressed. I'll, er – come back…later…" He turned to leave when Rose sat up with a scoff.

"I'm decent enough, Doctor," she said. She wasn't in the mood for teasing him, and she certainly didn't have the patience for his trying to sidestep the fact that she was a living, breathing, human female. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. If he wanted to talk then he could talk, but she wasn't going to make a special effort not to offend his delicate Time Lord sensibilities. "And anyways," she continued. "Not like you haven't seen it before."

The Doctor reddened at that, but he stood his ground. He looked slightly ruffled. His suit jacket had disappeared since the last time she'd seen him just outside the hut. His tie hung a little loose from his neck, his hair rumpled like he'd been messing it. The bottoms of his trousers were wet from the rain, and mud still clung to the edges of his plimsolls.

"Rose, you know – I, er…I had no idea – I didn't mean to," he fumbled.

"'S not your fault," she said after a moment. "I suppose you'll just forget whatever you saw, yeah?" She watched him from beneath her lashes. He was fidgeting again, biting the inside of his cheek and looking everywhere except at her. "And anyways, don't blame you entirely." With that he looked at her.

"What do you mean, _entirely_?" Frowning.

"Well, it's your fault I got mad – was _you_ who took us to the monastery."

"What – and it's my fault the monks forbade women?"

"You told them I was your companion!"

"Well, you are!"

"No – not your _companion_," she emphasized, and the Doctor looked at her in confusion. She rolled her eyes. Seriously, how could he be so thick? "Brother Dermot thought I had…loose morals."

The Doctor sniffed.

"They were a small sect – on the fringe of their religion. I didn't realize they were so prudish, let alone misogynistic. And anyways," he put his hands in his trouser pockets defensively, "I had to get you in the monastery somehow. Since when did being my plus one become a four-letter word?"

"Since you never corrected the _S.O.B.s_," Rose ground out, and he grimaced (at the term or her tone she didn't know), "that I'm your equal!" She folded her arms across her chest, sat back against the headboard, and glared at him.

The Doctor scowled, scuffing the carpet with the toe of his shoe. "Suppose I didn't. But that doesn't explain why you think I had anything to do with," he waved his hand in her direction, glancing quickly at her robe-clad body.

"The TARDIS decided to lock me in there," anger flushed her cheeks at the memory. "Payback, I assume, because I was insulted when you introduced me as your **whore**," she hissed.

The Doctor blanched, his eyes hardening instantly at her words, and Rose immediately wished she could take them back. Jaw clenched, he took a slow, deep breath, and she winced at the pain and anger in his eyes. She bit her lip nervously, heart suddenly beating very fast.

He blinked. "Right! Well – I'll leave you to it then," he said almost casually, but his features remained hard, his body tense. He turned to leave.

Her stomach was churning. Her heart had lodged itself in her throat. All she wanted to do was stop him. Take back the hurt she'd caused. Tell him how sorry she was. But she sat unmoving on the bed, her limbs numb as she watched his back. Finally, her lips parted and she managed a choked, "Doctor."

But he ignored her, slipping from the room as quietly as he'd entered. Rose stared uselessly at the closed door, willing him to return, but it remained shut.

She'd really cocked that up good and proper.

* * *

It was really only a few beats after he'd left that she'd finally found her momentum, hurling herself from the bedroom and into the hallway. But the Time Lord had already disappeared.

"Fuck," Rose spat at herself, heart still pounding as she remembered the hurt on the Doctor's face. She'd gone too far. No matter how annoyed she might have been at the Doctor for subjecting her to the bigoted likes of Brother Dermot and the Sons of Bernie, she knew he'd never thought of her in any way but as his friend, and he'd always treated her as an equal. And it certainly hadn't been fair to blame him for the TARIDS' actions.

Rose had to find the Doctor and apologize – something she suspected he'd been about to do to her before she'd bit his head off. She didn't suppose the TARDIS was about to help her find him, though. If the ship had been annoyed with her before, it was probably livid now.

She wasn't hopeful but decided to check the obvious places anyways. The console room, kitchen, study, second-study, and his bedroom were all empty. She started with random doors next. Checked the wardrobe room, seven or eight different bathrooms, an English garden, a dozen different bedrooms she'd never seen, what looked like a doll museum (she'd have to ask him about that one), and the swimming pool he liked best, but still nothing.

She was about to give up and just hope he'd come out sooner rather than later when she came to a dead end, much like when she'd earlier roamed the TARDIS in her aggravation. This time, though, she knew it wasn't the end of the ship's maze but the TARDIS finally directing her to the elusive Time Lord. And she thought she knew where the door would lead. A pink umbrella and a matching pair of Wellington boots were propped up in the corner.

* * *

The wood was not as she'd left it. Even with the umbrella and wellies rain bombarded without mercy, driven by the force of a relentless wind. "Could'a done with a raincoat," she grumbled at the TARDIS. It was near pitch black, her path lighted only by the near-continuous lightning strikes that came with earsplitting crashes. She scoffed at having considered the earlier rain a storm. Carefully, she began up the hill, battling with the wind to keep a hold on the umbrella while fighting for a firm foothold on the slippery path.

"Can't you stop it?" she yelled at the ship after losing her balance for the third time and doing a good semblance of the splits. Gathering herself up, she tried to cinch her robe tighter. Surely the TARDIS wouldn't intentionally harm her. But the lightning strikes seemed too close for comfort, and she wasn't entirely convinced she wouldn't end up electrified on her back.

If the Doctor wasn't in that hut she'd kill him.

But as Rose finally reached the top of the hill, thankful the TARDIS wasn't making her go up it more than once, she saw the Doctor's form sat framed in the doorway, electrified by lightning. He was slumped forward, elbows on the stone table and hands covering his face.

Fingers slackening while she watched him, a gust of wind took the opportunity to snatch the umbrella from her grasp. She gasped, seeing just a glimpse of pink flying through the trees before it was lost to the dark. She made a quick dash to the little hut, her squelching boots drawing the Doctor's attention, and he turned to see her in the doorway.

Still in her robe, pink rain boots, and drenched to the bone. Again.

His eyes widened in shock, Rose thought, at her state.

"I lost my brolly," she tried to explain, and then noticed the redness of his eyes. The wetness on his face.

"Are you –" she looked at him in confusion. "Have you been _crying_?"

_To be continued..._


	3. Three

**A/N: Rose and the Doctor try to fix things.**

** Thank you to tempusdominus10 for beta-ing. Any mistakes are my own.**

**III.**

_His eyes widened in shock, Rose thought, at her state._

"_I lost my brolly," she tried to explain, and then noticed the redness of his eyes. The wetness on his face._

"_Are you –" she looked at him in confusion. "Have you been _crying_?"_

Crying?

Really?

Why couldn't she keep her big gob shut?

Before she'd finished her sentence she'd realized how ridiculous it was. Of _course_ the Doctor wasn't crying – it was raining for Christ's sake. The light from the candle was bright enough to show that his hair was limp and damp like it'd been hastily towel dried. And his suit jacket was soaked through. His black umbrella sat inverted and useless in the corner, evidence of the failed battle he'd obviously fought to reach the hut. Okay, so his eyes were red and he'd been covering them with his hands (classic weeping pose), but he could have just been rubbing them out of frustration (at her).

And really, what man had she ever known that had gone off for a good post-fight cry? It hadn't even been a fight – a disagreement, more like. And if the look on his face was anything to go by – like she'd just slapped him Jackie-style – the Doctor had definitely not been crying.

So, naturally she could have been wrong, but even so, she found she just couldn't gag her response when he narrowed his eyes and bit out, "It's raining, actually." A flash of lightning illuminated the hard edge of his jaw which had somehow looked softer if the candlelight.

"Oh, is it? Hadn't noticed," she shot back, hands automatically landing on her wet, robe-clad hips.

Tact, Rose realized as they stared daggers at each other, was something she lacked when it came to the Doctor. 'Oh, no, Doctor! I've stabbed you in the heart again! Let me rub in some salt and vinegar and eat it!' She'd not intended for her apology to go over quite like this, but she wouldn't mess it up again – she was determined to take the high road. If he was going to be Mr. Standoffish then so be it, but she'd make sure he'd hear her apology even if it killed them both in the process. She cleared her throat, schooled her features to look somewhat apologetic, and prepared to speak. But he spoke first.

"What are you doing here?" Not a question; more of a harsh accusation. It threw her off.

"Was lookin' for you," Rose answered a bit uncertainly, as if he cared. Their gazes still locked across the small hut, but the initial bite had faded from her amber globes.

Her resolve was unexpectedly slipping, and she was beginning to wonder if perhaps the high road was overrated. Lots of honorable people retreated with their dignity still intact. She couldn't think of one off the top of her head, but she was sure there were some. Accept a temporary defeat, cut your losses, and all that. Perfectly acceptable, she thought, warily eyeing the clearly irate Time Lord who sat before her.

But then he pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed. Her initial irritation was fanned again, flaring dangerously. Was he _trying_ to make her feel like a naughty child who'd annoyed her parent to their last tether? Because it was working. Screw the high road! The lower, the better! She opened her mouth for a scathing reply…but he interrupted her again.

"Please tell me you didn't close the door."

He still wasn't looking at her – as if that action alone would push him past the brink of simple annoyance to full on madness – but she stared at him like he'd already tumbled over that edge. Yes, surely he was mad.

"What?" She turned around to look at the doorway – yep, still door-less. She looked back at him, still holding the bridge of his nose. "There…is no door, Doctor."

Hands dropping to the table with a clack of thunder, the Doctor looked up at Rose as if she were something exceptionally dim with which he was fast losing patience. "When you entered this room – did you close the door behind you?"

Oh. That door.

He looked serious. So this must be serious. So she should take this seriously. "Erm…" she tried to think. "…Yes."

The Doctor's sudden groan made her jump. As she watched him drag his hands through his hair like she'd told him the universe was coming to an end, her annoyance disappeared instantly and she reached out to him, moving to close the distance between them. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

He leapt from the bench before she could touch him, did an unnecessary whirl so they were separated by the table, then began digging in earnest through his trouser pockets. She gaped at him while he pulled out object after object, giving each a glance before tossing them on the table. When it became clear this would continue without explanation, Rose found her voice.

"Doctor."

"Hmm?" Like sometime in the last ten seconds he'd forgotten she was there.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to fix this room." Like it was obvious.

"What?"

"You can't leave." Like that cleared it up.

"Right…_What_?"

He threw an empty candy wrapper atop the growing pile of junk on the table and sighed in exasperation. Because of her or because he hadn't yet found what he was searching for, she didn't' know.

"It's this room," he said shortly, and then: "Ha!"

His brown eyes lit up, hand stilling within his pocket. For the first time since the monastery, he grinned at her, and she returned it without hesitation. With a flourish he pulled out a half-sucked lollipop shoved back into its wrapper and held it up like he'd found the key to all his problems.

"Doctor…" Rose began but found she didn't know what to say.

"Here you are, take it," he said before she could ponder things much more. Rose took the lollipop with a bemused smirk.

"And don't eat it!" he warned her like she'd been about to stuff it in her mouth. "And we'll need…" he rifled through the junk. "Really should'a thought to bring my coat – it's much better stocked, but..." He cleared his throat. "Right – this, this, and this," he shoved several more things into her arms. A torch, a couple rubber band balls, some alien-looking gizmos covered in oil (he had those in his _pockets_?), and a–

"Wait," he eyed her armful critically. "What's that?" He snatched away what appeared to be a tiny ceramic dog glued to a rusted spring from her arms and looked at it like he'd never seen it before. With a raised brow he tossed it over his shoulder. Spinning back to the table, he took the lone candle and sat it with surprising gentleness on the floor.

"Right! Set those on the bench," he instructed before a broad sweep of his arm cleaned the remaining rubbish from the table.

* * *

It was like an emotional rollercoaster with him. She'd come to apologize, then to tear him a new one, as her mother would say, and now she was helping him 'fix this room,' their apparent differences forgotten. It was disconcerting to say the least and not a little bit aggravating. Not to mention she was beginning to feel a tad vulnerable. They were both equally wet, but while the Doctor was missing only his coat, she still had nothing on but the robe the TARDIS had given her.

"Doctor, what is going on?" Rose asked, trying to get into a more helpful frame of mind. She carefully laid out her armful on the bench. Meanwhile, the Doctor had squeezed himself beneath the table, fingers searching, dancing along its underside. Rose crouched to watch him, mindful to keep her wet robe wrapped around her legs.

"This room's broken. Hasn't worked properly for, oh – two or three years…"

"You haven't been able to fix it for _three years_?"

"I'd say more like two, actually. Maybe two and a half… or…two and three quarters," he amended absently.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why haven't you been able to fix it for two or three years?"

"Oh." She saw his hands pause. "Never tried."

Rose knew she was gawking at him, but she couldn't have stopped if she'd tried. He wasn't paying her any attention anyways, now, hands resuming their search.

Two or three years? Something on the TARDIS had been broken for two or three years and he hadn't even _attempted _to repair it? She was biting the inside of her cheek, trying to keep herself from demanding that he explain himself. She knew something was up but decided her best course of action was to go along with whatever he had planned and hope he gave her the opportunity for a little gentle prying.

"Okay then, what's wrong with it?"

"Oh, well the door you've already experienced –"

"The door?"

"It doesn't operate from the inside once it's been closed. It in fact ceases to exist. Well – at least in this dimension. Still haven't figured out where it ends up, but that's shoddy trans-dimensional engineering for you."

"Oh…" Her eyes widened. "Oh, wait – so then, the TARDIS didn't lock me in here?" She was beyond confused.

The Doctor snickered. "I wouldn't say that. You shouldn't have even been able to _find_ this room, but I'm guessing she led you straight to it. _Twice_." He didn't sound amused.

"Yeah, it...she did –"

"Ah ha!"

There was a soft click and then a low hum. Rose looked up to watch as the top of the table seemed to roll back like a conveyor belt, revealing a tangle of wires and circuits hidden beneath.

The Doctor crawled from under the table to observe his handiwork, and Rose leaned in closer for a better look.

"What's it for?"

"It controls the room." He snatched his sonic screwdriver from his back pocket and gave it a twirl as he scrutinized the mess before him.

"Can you turn the rain off?" Rose asked hopefully.

Lightning struck close, the clap of thunder so loud it seemed to shake the hut. Rose jumped, looking out the doorway again, half-expecting to see trees split in two or the start of a fire. When her eyes returned to the Doctor, she was startled to meet his piercing gaze.

"No. I can't." There was an edge to his voice that had Rose questioning how easy he'd been with her, like their familiar dynamic was all show. He was attempting to distract her…he was still pissed at her.

"Come on, then," he said, donning his specs and settling himself on the bench opposite her. "Make yourself useful and grab that torch."

* * *

The shit hit the fan quite suddenly.

The Doctor was quiet while he worked – speaking only to ask for certain items that Rose would quickly hand over or to give the occasional directive on where she should point the light. An unsettling silence grew between them like a festering wound, and it was slowly driving Rose crazy. The storm seemed to be getting stronger, and a bitterly cold wind was starting to find its way inside their little shelter. Shivering, Rose studied the Doctor for any signs that his anger might be tempering, but he was being as enigmatic as she'd ever seen him. God, she might as well just suck it up and get it over with. Apologize and hope he stopped with the silent treatment, because any more of this and she was going to seriously lose it.

"Doctor."

He didn't answer, but Rose thought she saw his shoulders tense.

"About before –"

"Hand me that lollipop, would you?"

Only slightly flustered, she searched for the little red treat on the bench beside her and handed it to him. He pulled off its wrapper with his teeth and stuck it in his mouth.

"Tzzp," he said, holding out his hand.

"What?"

The lollipop left his mouth with a wet smack. "Tape."

As she handed over the tape with a shaky breath, she caught him shooting her a glance over the rim of his glasses. His eyes were almost black in the poor lighting, and she was reminded of a similar gaze – when her eyes had locked to his as he'd stood out in the rain. She remembered the feel of the breeze against her bare legs – soft and warm compared to the chilling wind howling by the doorway now. The look on his face – she'd thought he was embarrassed, but now she couldn't get that look out of her head, and she suddenly had to know. What had he been thinking as he'd watched her, as he'd seen her stripping in this very hut?

"It's fine, Rose. All forgotten."

She frowned, watching as he used the tape to secure the lollipop very gently to a circuit that was beginning to throw sparks.

"But –"

"_Forget_ it. I have." His tone said there'd be no leeway.

Rose blinked.

He was just going to pretend like this had never happened. The trip to the monastery, what she'd said to him back in her room, what he'd seen in this hut…but that was good, wasn't it? That's what she'd wanted. More than she'd even hoped for, in fact. Now she didn't have to apologize. Except, she felt like if she didn't mend whatever had broken between them she was going to be sick. And as the Doctor began to scowl and the lollipop began to smoke dangerously, something occurred to Rose that made her feel she truly was the stupid ape he'd always said she was.

"_Trying to fix this room." _

The door was broken.

"_You can't leave."_

_She _couldn't leave.

He'd been avoiding her alright – literally locked himself in a room that was meant to be impossible for her to find. He didn't want to see her; didn't want to talk with her; didn't want her here. He was only fixing the room _now _because she'd foolishly stumbled in on him. God, how could she be so dumb?

Nausea swept over her, and she was surprised the Doctor hadn't looked up at her in alarm. Her heart was pounding out like a drum, blood rushing from her head in a sickening wave as she watched him in a daze. She vaguely recognized his features turning from concentrated to frustrated, and it was another moment before she understood he was looking at her and saying something.

"What?" she whispered.

"The light!" he snapped, annoyed.

Rose looked down at the torch in her hand, the beam uselessly illuminating her pink wellies. Ah, yes, the light. She'd let the light drop. Funny, that. Gripping the handle until her knuckles whitened, she held the torch back in place, shivering slightly. She took a deep, trembling breath and tried to process her feelings as detachedly as she could, but there was almost no time for her revelation to sink in.

An angry burst of cold, wet wind blew straight through the entryway of the hut, immediately chilling Rose to the bone and spraying rain onto the exposed control panel.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, _no_!" the Doctor cried.

Sparks hissed from the circuit he'd been working on, flying across the panel. In another second the whole thing went up in a burning flash that rivaled that of the earlier lightning strikes. Rose jumped up in surprise, lifting an arm to block the blinding light. Black smoke began to fill the tiny room, a stench of burnt metal with a top note of strawberry sweetness.

The Doctor was cursing – something Rose rarely heard him do – and as she lowered her arm to survey the damage, she saw why. The initial exploded circuit had set off a chain reaction, the surrounding circuits beginning to spit angry sparks and emit columns of acrid smoke. The Doctor began a frenzied search in his pockets, yelling at her in the process. "Bicarb! I need bicarb! Rose, do you have any bicarb?"

The smoke was choking, the back of Rose's throat beginning to sting. "Why would I have bicarb?" she coughed back at him.

"You like to bake!"

"Doesn't mean I carry around baking ingredients wherever I go!"

"Shit!"

Overwhelmed by the smoke, she bent over retching, stinging tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt the Doctor's arm encircle her waist and lead her from the hut, the cool rain now refreshing and welcome. Rose wiped the tears from her eyes and squinted through the dark at the Doctor, his form still as he watched the smoke pour from the hut. She took a few panting breaths before she turned on him.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"Oi!" He turned angry eyes on her. "_You _try fixing an electrical panel in a rainstorm and tell me how you get on, then!"

"Well we wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't come in here to '_fix' _this damn room in the first place!"

"If youhadn't showed up I would have done just fine!"

"Wha – how the hell can you blame this on _me_?"

The Doctor turned from her abruptly, stalking around to the back of the hut. Rose watched him until his back disappeared around the corner and then followed him grudgingly. Still holding the torch, she shone it in his direction to see him attempting to reach for the huts roof, but it was too high and there was nothing around with which to use as a step.

"Need some help?" she asked sardonically.

He shot her a glare. "Just, just –" he started then sighed. "There could be another way to repair the room, but it won't just fix the door, it will restart the whole system. It'll be a blank slate in here." He said it like it was a bad thing.

"Okay, then. If it gets _me _out of here, great. What do we gotta do?"

"The switch is on top of the hut hidden beneath a panel, but I can't seem to get up there," he said quickly.

"Yeah…"

"But you could if I gave you a boost."

"…Oh," she thought a second. "Oh! But I – I mean. I've only got on, you know." And embarrassingly, she felt a flush flaming her face and neck. The Doctor's eyes seemed to glaze over for a second, like he was trying to decide something important, but before Rose could wonder what it might be, he'd fished something out of his back pocket and shoved it in her hand like it'd burned him.

It was a long moment before she recognized the fabric held between her fingers. The little pink flowers were almost childish. She remembered debating on whether or not to wear them, but then decided her jeans would cover them well enough whatever situation they might find themselves in. Then she'd promised herself that she'd do a load of laundry as soon as possible. She had to force herself to look up at him, her heart beginning another furious beat.

"Doctor," Rose nearly choked, "why are my knickers in your pocket?"

_To be continued…_


End file.
